


Betrayal

by The_Doom_Dahlia



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe, Machine of Death - ed. Bennardo/Malki/North
Genre: Audrey Hepburn is Chandler's teacup pig, Blood, Cheese is Heather M's therapy dog, F/F, Machine of Death, Pre-Canon, References to Canon, References to the Smiths, Sleepovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 03:56:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5990899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Doom_Dahlia/pseuds/The_Doom_Dahlia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heather Chandler gets a gift from her family, in the form of a Machine of Death.</p>
<p>The results are..interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Betrayal

**Author's Note:**

> The animals are part of my own headcanon. That is all.

“So..that’s it?” Heather Duke said, gesturing to the tiny silver box in front of the trio, snuggled between Mac’s therapy dog, Cheese, and Chandler’s teacup pig, Audrey Hepburn, both calm and filled with scraps of the junk food that were eaten only under the strongest of sleepover circumstances. The thing wasn’t much, gunmetal grey with a small hole in the center of its face, big enough for a finger to fit through. Nothing more, just shiny silver in the front, and a pale white label, like something shot out of a shitty labelmaker, which read in black type: ‘Machine of Death’.

“That’s it.” A tone of pride in Chandler’s voice, her teeth curling in a Cheshire smirk. “Daddy bought it for me for my birthday.” she giggled, tapping the top of the box, the tinny sound echoing dully in the room, bouncing off the record player and the speakers that still hummed out Morrissey’s droning, monotone voice, singing out some dirge about agony and football that, for some reason, Mac loved so much.

 

“It’s so...small.” Heather said in awe, doe-like brown eyes wide and bright under the glow of Chandler’s bedside lamps, brushing her fingers over the fur of her golden retriever, a giant, plush beast with fluff as soft as silk and a gentle bark that didn’t scare her, even when it was a sudden break through silence (like Duke’s yelling or those blanks that creepy boy had fired in the cafeteria). “It’s barely taller than Cheese when he lays down!”

“That’s the point, you pillowcase.” Chandler hissed, keeping her voice soft, knowing how sensitive she was to loud noises.. “It’s easy to move, something we can take out at parties and shit. We’re gonna be even more popular now that I have one of these beauties.” she cackled, teeth pretty, pale and straight, like a cemetery row. Taking a deep breath, she gazed at her friends. “So, who goes first?”

 

Duke grinned sadistically, shooting a look to Mac. “Let’s test if animals get slips.” she said in a sing-song voice, eyes glinting with ill humor.

Heather M gasped in horror, and clutched the dog, the glowing terror bright in those hazel orbs. A negatory whine rumbled in her throat, growing louder and higher as Duke put pressure on her to push the pup’s paw under the needle, the whine becoming a scream of “ _Heather!_ ” when the emerald-clad girl suddenly snatched for Cheese’s paw, the dog letting out sharp barks, Audrey Hepburn unfazed, leaning her head into Chandler’s lap with a soft ‘oink’ of contentment.

The yelling grew louder before Chandler went “ _ **Fucking hell! I’ll do it!**_ ” in a scream that made Mac groan in pain, and that made Duke jump before pouting and folding her arms, murmuring something about ‘just kidding’.

While Duke was distracted, Chandler leaned down and affectionately pressed crimson-painted lips to the smaller girl’s forehead, running her hand through her hair, nails raking down her scalp, a little smile curling on her face as the girl sighed in relief. Once all had calmed down, Chandler slipped her finger into the machine, and felt the little prick of the needle (not like she hadn’t felt little pricks in holes before, ha ha ha). She yanked her hand away, balling her hand into a fist as Mac ran off to get a bandage for her. Just as she returned, the machine spat out its verdict. Chandler cleaned her hand of the blood that’d leaked, and wrapped the bandage (of course Heather would pick out the Hello Kitty ones) around the little wound, before plucking the paper from its little resting place, and reading it to herself, making sure Heather and Heather couldn’t see.

_Betrayal._

Now _that_ caught her attention. She would die because someone betrayed her, or she betrayed someone, or someone betrayed someone else, who fucking knew. Chandler almost mouthed out the word to herself, before she noticed Duke trying to peek into her palm. She closed her fist tight over the card, careful not to crumple it. “It says ‘Accident’.”

“ _ **Boo.**_ ” Heather answered, face scrunching in an expression of disappointment. Heather Duke hoped for something exciting for her results, like ‘Plane Crash’ or ‘Explosion’, something notable that she’d be remembered for. Kurt and Ram had both gotten ‘Shot While Trying To Have Sex’, and it had been a laugh riot for weeks after. Mac hadn’t gotten the test done yet because of fear, but was desperately hoping for ‘Old Age’ or something gentle like that (Duke would often joke in private to her that Mac’s card would probably read ‘Pills’ or ‘Eaten by Therapy Dog’. Chandler didn’t find it funny.).

Heather shrugged and slipped the card into her robe pocket, looking to either side at Heather and Heather, running her nails over Audrey Hepburn’s skin. She cared about these three assholes so much (even if she didn’t show it to her human companions), but any of them could be her undoing. They, or anyone else she grew close to, could kill her. For once in her new life as Queen of Westerburg, she was fucking **_scared_**.

“Heather?”

Chandler quickly turned to look into those bright hazel eyes, warm and liquid, like a latte. Mac looked concerned for her, the yellow of her nightgown stark against the red of her own. Had she seen the terror in her when she’d read the ticket?

“Accidents aren’t too bad.” she tried to assure her, but her voice was squeaky, just as it was after watching horror movies, or after being almost dropped by some dumbass new girls on her squad. It was _fear_. “At least you know that no one’s going to, like, kill you or anything. It won’t be anyone’s fault, not even yours. It just be fate.” she murmured, shoulder bumping her gently.

Heather laughed weakly, but allowed her a smile. “Thanks, Heather.” she murmured. The other blonde hadn’t helped, not at all, but she was trying and that was nice. It dulled her distrust a little bit. Heather Mac couldn’t kill, the girl was too scared of everything, too gentle, too easily worried. Duke wouldn’t either, but not because she was gentle or worried, just because she was scared of **_her_**.

“So, are we gonna shove Cheese’s paw into the machine or what?” Duke said bitterly, shoving popcorn into her mouth. As the other Heathers argued over the ethics of shoving an animal’s hand into the machine to get tested (and if any part of his paw would fit into the machine anyway), Chandler ducked into the bathroom.

She raised her card to the light, staring at the world of it, fingers tracing over the neatly typed words: ‘Betrayal’. She looked through the mirror at the room past the door, where Duke was seemingly giving up on trying to put Cheese’s paw in the machine, and slipping her finger into the Machine of Death. Soon, she’d know how she’d die, and so (if she gathered her courage) would Mac. They’d all know, and there would be that spectre floating over them, talons digging into their backs.

Chandler turned gently back to her own hand, the cardboard card in her palm pale white with black letters. **_‘Betrayal.’_** With grace, she tore it in two, crumpled it up and tossed it in the toilet, flushing it down. She didn’t need to worry about this, tonight was supposed to be fun. She nodded to herself as she crossed back into the room just as Duke’s card was spat out.

_’Besides,’_ she thought. _’tomorrow’s the first day of Junior year. I need some relaxation before going back to being Westerburg’s queen.’_


End file.
